Midnight Run
by avidreader72
Summary: Stephanie finds herself in a bit of a pickle, and Les is the only one who will dare to defy Ranger to help her out.


SPOV

I've been in some sticky situations before, but this one takes the cake. Hmmm… cake. That may be the only good thing about this day. Maybe I can gorge myself on cake, get sick, fake food poisoning, and have to go to the hospital. Something to consider. My palms are sweaty, and my heart is beating a mile a minute. Oh god, I can't believe I'm about to go through with this. I think I'm going to be sick even without eating cake.

I look up at the two serious looking men in front of me. Their arms are folded across their muscled chests, and they are glaring at me.

I gulp. "Are you sure there's other way to get him out of this?"

"No, Beautiful. This is the only way to keep Ranger out of jail."

"Think of all the times Ranger has saved you, Little Girl. This is how you can repay him."

"But he always said there's no price for what we give each other. This feels like a pretty steep price." My voice cracks, and I feel like I'm about to hyperventilate. I know I'll go through with this. I'll do anything for Carlos. But the thought of what I'm about to do has me feeling like I'm about to puke.

Hector steps up with a bouquet, and I wipe my palms down over my hips, probably leaving sweat stains on the white dress.

"No worries, Angelita. We'll get this worked out soon, and then you can file for divorce."

"And how long will that take?" I inquire. The three men exchange glances, as though weighing their answer.

Tank finally responds, "Only two or three months."

"But what about in the meantime?" My voice rising in both volume and pitch. "I can't stay married to that prick for two hours, let alone two months." The three men just shrug their shoulders in response. Oh great. That's reassuring.

The wedding march begins to play, and Hector holds his arm out for me to take. As we begin our journey down the aisle, I see my mother beaming in the front pew. I think she's the only one besides the groom who is happy about this. Next to her, my father is scowling, and grandma looks like she's about to pull her .45 out and murder someone. With each step I take, my sense of dread grows. I glance around the sanctuary and see there are Merry Men stationed at every door and even by the windows, all wearing the same expression Les and Tank had on earlier. They weren't taking any chances that I might try to bolt.

We reach the front of the church and I look up at the groom, standing there in a tux with a huge grin on his face. My stomach clenches hard, and I feel like I can't breathe.

Suddenly, my body jerks awake and I'm gasping for air. The mocha latte hand resting on my belly is rubbing soothing circles. We're spooned together, my back to his front, and the warmth he radiates helps to begin to calm me.

"Bad dream, Babe?"

"Yeah. But bad dream would be an understatement. Horrifying nightmare would be closer to the truth."

"Would you like to tell me about it?"

"No, too disturbing."

"Uncle Sunny's men throwing you off the bridge?"

"No, worse."

"Stiva locking you in the cabinet?"

"No, worse."

"Scrog?"

"No, worse." I was breathing deeply, working to lower my heartrate. "Tank and Les were forcing me to marry Officer Picky to keep you out of jail on a weapons charge. Picky was threatening to file charges that would send you to jail for 20 years but agreed to drop them if I married him."

"Babe," Carlos said with a low chuckle. His hand still on my belly and his arm pulls me closer to him. "You realize it wouldn't work that way in real life, right?"

"I know, but my subconscious doesn't always think logically. You should know that by now."

"Yes, I'm well aware. And how exactly were you getting around the whole bigamy thing?"

"I don't think we were married in my dream."

"Your midnight snack strikes again."

"What do you mean?"

"Every time you indulge in your latest craving, you have really strange dreams."

"It's not my fault," I whine. "Your son is making me have odd cravings."

Carlos's hand begins stroking my swollen belly once again. "Dill pickle ice cream with relish topping?" He chuckles.

"I can't help it. It's what I'm craving."

"What kind of blackmail are you holding over Les?"

"What do you mean?"

"I threatened him with mat time if he made another midnight ice cream run for you after the last time. Yet, he ignored my order and got it for you anyway."

"Why mat time?"

"Babe, you dreamt we hired Punky Balog as our nanny and woke up screaming."

"My nightmares aren't related to the ice cream," I insisted.

"Really? Because all your craziest nightmares are on nights when you've consumed that God-awful concoction."

"That can't be true."

"It is. Remember the one with Tank's killer kitties?"

"Have you felt how sharp Mitten's teeth are?"

"Then there was the one where we found out we were having triplets when we were in the delivery room," Carlos reminded me.

"I read a story where a woman didn't know she was having twins until after the first baby was born. They went back and reviewed the 20 week ultrasound and one twin was hiding behind the other. They totally missed it. It could happen."

"How about the one where Hector had his tear drop tattoos changed to butterflies because you asked him to do it?"

"That wasn't a nightmare. It was sweet."

"The dream wasn't the problem, Babe. The problem was what you did when you woke up."

"What was wrong with it?"

"You called the control room, found out Hector was still in his workshop on the second floor, and ran down to tell him you love him just the way he is and he shouldn't change anything."

"Again, what was wrong with that? I just don't see a problem."

"It was 0200 and you ran down there in a skimpy tank top and boyshorts."

"So?"

"Babe, I'd rather my men didn't see you with so little on."

"Oh, come on. Some of my distraction outfits used to cover less than that."

"Not anymore."

"Well, obviously I'm not doing distractions right now."

"That's not what I meant," Carlos sighed.

"So what did you mean?" I asked.

"There's more of you to cover now and that tank top wasn't doing a great job of containing it all."

I could feel my anger start to rise. "Are you calling me fat?" I was starting to feel like was I channeling Lula.

"Not at all."

"Cause it sounds like you just called me fat. "

"I didn't mean it that way. It's just that pregnancy has made some of your best assets a little better."

Rangers hands grazed up my sides and settled on my pregnancy-enhanced boobs. He lightly tweaked my nipples and I let out a low moan. Then I sighed in disappointment as he dropped his hands from my breasts and went back to rubbing my belly. I realized he was trying to distract me from continuing my line of questioning.

"And again, why was that such a problem?"

"Babe, that tank top was barely holding you in. And when you were running down the stairs to find Hector, my men were treated to a sight that had them thinking they were watching a pregnant Baywatch Babe instead of _my_ Babe. I don't share, and I don't like the idea of my men seeing you in your underwear. Plus you really freaked Hector out."

"Huh? How so?"

"You were pounding on his door at 0200, dressed the way you were. He thought you were in danger, maybe one of my enemies had invaded RangeMan."

I sighed. "Okay, I'll give you that one. My response was a little out of line."

"Oh, then there's my personal favorite. The one where I was pregnant too."

"Okay, okay. You've made your point. Maybe I should lay off the midnight snacks. But that one was more humorous than scary."

"Babe. Speak for yourself. The whole idea terrified me."

I sighed in response.

"Back to my question. What are you holding over Santos that he'd risk mat time with me by driving across town to pick up pickle ice cream for you?"

"It's not exactly blackmail. More he wants a favor from me."

"What's the favor?"

"He wants me to set him up with Christina."

"Christina?" Carlos questioned.

"You know, the cute blond receptionist at the OB's office?"

"When did Les meet her? I've taken you to all your appointments."

"Remember I had to go back for the second glucose test after I supposedly failed the first one?"

"I told you to lay off the donuts."

"Yes, yes. I know, Mr. Smug. Except, if you will also remember, I hadn't actually failed the first one. The lab mixed up the results and didn't discover their error until after I'd done the second test. But you'd already arranged to be in Miami for performance reviews when I was supposed to go in for the second test. I told you to go ahead with your trip, and Les took me to the follow up. I was there for over three hours, and Les struck up a conversation with Christina while he was waiting for me. He says they hit it off, and he wants to ask her out."

"Are you really going to do this? We like this doctor. Do you want to risk not getting good appointment times because Christina is mad at you after Les breaks her heart?"

"A full list of caveats will go along with his number. Besides, I've already mentioned it to her. She is as interested in him as he is in her."

"So why haven't you already set them up? That test was what, 12 or so weeks ago."

I fell silent and squirmed slightly. My answer was going to reveal how selfish I'd been. Carlos patiently waited me out.

"Well, ummm…. Les has been so good about making the midnight runs for things I'm craving, and I knew you'd already threatened all the men with mat time. Les was the only one willing to risk it to get me what I wanted. I didn't want to take the chance he'd lose his motivation to help me if I went ahead and set them up."

Carlos laughed. Full-on, loud, belly-shaking laughter. "You never disappoint, Babe."

"I'll give Christina Les's number the next time I see her. But you know, you started a little something back when you were talking about my 'best assets' and didn't continue. Maybe we should pick back up with that." I wiggled my ass against him and was surprised when he didn't immediately respond.

"I didn't think you'd be comfortable with that right now," Carlos responded, sounding a little confused.

"Why wouldn't I be comfortable with it? We haven't curtailed our activities yet."

"Well, because of what will likely happen in the next…" Carlos paused as he looked at his watch. "Two minutes."

"What's going to happen in the next two min…." I broke off my question as my abdomen began to tighten considerable. I started taking deep breaths as the sensation became a bit uncomfortable. Carlos resumed rubbing small circles on my belly, as he'd been doing when I first woke up from my nightmare. "What the hell? Is this a contraction?"

I felt Carlos's body shake slightly as he attempted to contain his laughter.

"Yeah, Babe. You've been having them every 30 minutes for the last few hours. I thought you knew. You were having one when you woke up from your dream."

"If I'd known, do you think I'd be laying here, talking so calmly about ice cream, and dreams, and Les having a crush on my doctor's receptionist? I thought my stomach was clenching at the prospect of marrying Picky. Shouldn't we be getting up and getting ready? Shouldn't we call my doctor?" I was getting louder the longer I ranted.

"Shhhhh, Babe. Don't let yourself get riled up. They are 30 minutes apart and have been staying steady at that time for a while. Remember from the classes, we shouldn't head to the hospital until they are about five minutes apart. We've got plenty of time, and we are only about 15 minutes from the hospital. In fact, we should be trying to get back to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us, and you especially need some sleep so you will have energy for later." Carlos was gently rubbing my shoulder and arm, trying to calm me.

"I can't believe it's here. We're going to be meeting our son today." My heartrate was speeding up again and I was starting to breathe rapidly. I feel like I'm just a couple seconds away from a full-blown panic attack. "I'm not ready for this. This can't happen yet."

"Babe, it's a little late for that now. It's happening. We really can't stop it at this point."

Oh shit. There's been something I've been meaning to ask Carlos's mom, and I never got around to it. I reach over to grab my phone from the nightstand, but Carlos's hand covers mine before I can select the number.

"It's 3:30am. Who are you calling?"

"Your mom. I need to ask her something." From the amused look on Carlos's face, I'm certain I was looking a bit crazed. "Wait! You said 3:30am. You can tell time like a normal person. Why the hell have you been driving me crazy with all this oh-whatever-hundred shit the whole time I've known you?"

"Force of habit, military training, and it's just what we use at RangeMan. But back up a second. What do you need to ask my mom that can't wait until a more reasonable hour?"

"How big of a baby were you?"

"Normal size. I think mom said I was 7lbs 10oz when I was born. Why?"

"Because I'm going to have to push your son out of my doodah later today, and what if he is some freakishly large baby?"

"The doctor told you at your last exam they think the baby will be between 7 and 8 pounds. Totally normal." I could see Carlos was struggling not to laugh at me, which just made me feel even more crazed.

"What was your head circumference? Isn't that something the doctors measure when a baby is born?"

"Um. I think it is. But I don't know what mine was when I was born." He was rapidly losing the war he was fighting against laughing at me.

"Then I need to talk to your mom! What if you had some insanely large head, and your son inherits that? He might not fit!"

With that, all Carlos's control left him and he was shaking with laughter. He nudged my shoulder so I would turn over and face him, then gathered me in his arms and pulled me close, or as close as he could get me given the humongous belly now wedged between us. He first kissed the top of my head and then lifted my chin to place the sweetest, calming kiss on my lips.

"Babe. You can ask my mom those questions later today. You will have plenty of time to get the answers before little Alejandro arrives. Now, neither of us has had much sleep yet and we've got a big day ahead of us. Let's try to get a little more shuteye before things progress." Somehow, his kiss managed to quell my panic attack. He's always been magic that way. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself.

"Okay. You're right." Carlos shifted again so he was laying on his back. He pulled me close, and I rested my head on his shoulder. We were laying like that when the next contraction hit, but shortly after, I felt my eyelids grow heavy, lulled back into relaxation by Carlos stroking his hand up and down my back. After a bit, we both drifted back to sleep.

* * *

As I leaned back in my hospital bed and let my head rest against Carlos's shoulder, I couldn't tear my gaze away from the tiny bundle in my arms. It was close after 10:30 at night, and this had been a long and tiring day.

After I'd calmed from my little meltdown last night, Carlos and I had dozed off and on in bed until the sky was just starting to lighten. At that point, my contractions were 20 minutes apart. Carlos left me resting in bed while he started to make phone calls. He touched base with Tank, went through his email and calendar to delegate tasks that would need addressed in the next few days, and then called our parents to let them know we'd be heading to the hospital later in the day. After speaking with his mom, he came to check in on me and reassured me that his mom reported he had been a completely normal-sized baby in every way. He laid with me in bed until around 9:00am when my contractions were about 15 minutes apart and I'd decided I wanted to get up and get a shower. Carlos has been so attentive during my pregnancy, and our shower together this morning was no exception. His touches were chaste but loving as he washed my hair and body. He made me feel so cherished. I'm so grateful for his calm, especially during my freak outs like I had last night.

After we'd finished our shower and dried off, he took the time to french braid my hair. I'd decided a braid was the best bet for today. I still found it humorous that my bad-ass, ex-Special Forces soldier, current bounty hunter-extraordinaire husband had been taught to french braid hair by his four sisters when he was a child. But as I was standing there, waiting for him to secure the ends with a tie, I felt a small trickle of fluid run down my thigh, not much but enough that I couldn't ignore it. I didn't feel like I'd lost control of my bladder, but it couldn't be my water breaking, could it? I always thought that happened in a big gush, like what happened with Valerie the time Cal was there and fainted. But that's indeed what it was. We called my OB's office and were directed to head to the hospital.

I'd felt a wave of nostalgia as we were about to leave the apartment this morning. Carlos was standing in the hallway, holding the door to the apartment for me, and I paused to look around, realizing that the next time we were in the apartment, we would be parents. Memories washed over me, and I could feel Carlos watching me, with his small, thinking about smiling smile on. He set our hospital bag down and gathered me in his arms.

"We've come a long ways, haven't we?"

"Yep. I was just remembering the night I broke in here, during the Slayer mess. How safe and protected I've always felt here."

"And I remember coming home a couple nights later to you sleeping in my bed and wishing you'd always be there anytime I came home."

"You threatened to throw me out the window."

"But I got in bed next to you and woke the next morning to you plastered all over me. One of the best wake ups ever."

Just then another contraction hit, and we decided it was best to forgo the trip down memory lane in exchange for a trip to St. Francis' Labor and Delivery floor.

My labor progressed smoothly. I am far too much of a wimp to try delivery without an epidural and Carlos supported me on that. He didn't want to see me in any more pain than absolutely necessary. It was 7:12pm when our son, Alejandro Carlos Manoso, made his appearance in this world. He was 7lbs 12oz, 20.5 inches in length, and had a head circumference of just shy of 14 inches, which the doctor assured me was right in the normal range. Although he seemed a bit perplexed by my interest in that measurement. Carlos just chuckled at me.

I had a small respite to rest after delivery when Carlos went with Alejandro as he was checked over, but once they returned, and we started to let the visitors clogging the maternity waiting room trickle in to see us, the attention had been non-stop.

Most everyone had seen us and headed home for the night. The lull in visitors was broken with a knock on the door. We looked up to see Les poke his head in.

"Is everyone decent? Can I come in and meet my godson?"

"Godson? You can come in, but you are mistaken if you think we're letting you be our child's godfather."

"Oh come on, cuz. Who would be better for the job?" Les asked with a wink and a lop-sided grin.

"Do you really want the list? It's quite extensive," Carlos retorted.

"You wound me," Les said with a dramatic hand to his heart gesture. "What about you, Beautiful? Certainly, you can lobby for me to get the job."

"Sorry, Les. I'm with Carlos on this one."

"Bummer, especially since I brought a little treat for you." Les reached into the bag he was carrying and pulled out a pint of dill pickle ice cream, along with a spoon.

"Ohhh, Les. Thank you. Would you like to hold Alejandro while I eat this?" Les put the ice cream on the tray next to my bed and held out his arms take the baby from me. After making sure, Alejandro was safely secured in Les's arms, I pulled open the ice cream container and scooped out a good-sized spoonful, eagerly anticipating this delectable treat. I put the spoon in my mouth, and ugh! I felt my face squinch up as my taste buds revolted. "Yuck! This is horrible. This must be a bad batch."

Les looked at me oddly. "Let me taste. Since you were enjoying it so much, I tried it myself once and didn't particularly care for it. I can see if it tastes different from before."

Les opened his mouth and I fed him a spoonful of the ice cream. "Nope, Beautiful. Nothing wrong with the batch. That's how it tasted before."

"Ugh! It's terrible. Why did I like this so much?"

Les and Carlos both looked down at the small bundle in Les's arms.

"You're saying it was a pregnancy thing?"

"Must have been, Beautiful." Les paused and looked uncomfortable for a second. "So I hate to ask, but any chance you've talked with Christina?"

"Yes. I called her at the doctor's office this morning after we got checked in here. She has your number and is interested in you too. She'll be calling you."

"Thanks. I appreciate that, Beautiful."

"Les," Carlos started. "I want to remind you we'd like to continue to use this doctor's office. Don't screw that up for us."

"I understand, and don't worry. I won't treat her like a girl I pick up at a club. Watching the two of you, I've been jealous of what you have. I'd like something similar, and Christina might just be that type of woman. Minus the explosions, of course."

Alejandro chose that moment to let out a cry. I rolled my eyes and reached to take my son back. With a smile on his face, Les excused himself to take his guard position outside the door. He was on duty for the next few hours.

Carlos and I relaxed back in bed while I positioned my son to nurse. I turned towards Carlos. "Now that my pickle ice cream craving has disappeared. I'm back to craving a good Boston Crème. Any chance of a midnight donut run?"

"Not a chance, Babe."

I sighed. I'd known the answer before I asked the question, but I'd still been hopeful. Oh well. It didn't matter. Life was pretty damn good, even without Boston Cremes. And with that thought, I turned my attention back to my beautiful son.

A/N: Just a bit of fluff. There's a few other stories I've been working on, but they are all longer and I've stalled out due to this being my busy season at work.


End file.
